Do You Love Your Master?
by ardavenport
Summary: While on a mission, Obi-Wan helps a younger Padawan with his troubled feelings about his Master.
1. Chapter 1

**DO YOU LOVE YOUR MASTER?**

by ardavenport

 ***** Part 1**

* * *

"Do you love your Master?"

"What?" Obi-Wan Kenobi turned to his fellow Padawan. Felci's slitted purple eyes peered at him from behind the edge of the embroidered veil that conveniently concealed his Padawan's braid and lock. Obi-Wan pushed back the edge of his own veil. Most of the rest of their disguises were long, wide breechclouts that hung down to their knees. The corridor deck plates of the passenger cruiser were comfortably warmed and carpeted under their bare feet.

"Do you love your Master?"

"Uuuuh, . . . yes?" Somehow saying 'no' sounded like the opposite of love, which was not right either.

They walked together. There were others up ahead, waiting to enter the party. Two of them were slaves. The other two were their masters.

"In the way that we pretend to for this mission?"

"Uhhhh, . . . . no." His halting answer was not entirely true, but for the purposes of this mission it was. More people arrived. Most did not stand too close to anyone else in the growing line, except for two Trandoshans who snorted and groped at each other; they were both slaves, a matched pair to a Human master. A few of the others were older than the two young Jedi, a few looked about the same as Obi-Wan's twenty years. Felci was younger by a couple years and apparently the most youthful guest to the festivities.

Lights on the sides of the heads of the two sentry droids blinked, but they remained fixed and unmoving before the golden doors of the party room.

"I must confess something . . . " Felci's low voice whispered in his ear. Obi-Wan kept his head pointed forward, only looking toward Felci's veiled head with his eyes. " . . . I have for some time been . . . . fantasizing about my Master."

Obi-Wan mentally review what he thought he had just heard his fellow Jedi say before speaking. "Have you acted?"

"No, of course not. That is against the Code. But . . . " The yellow veil bobbed downward. "I have thought of it. Seriously. I-I have found that I cannot achieve sexual satisfaction without the image of my Master in my mind. So, I have been quelling any sybaratic impulses in myself for some time."

"Have you told Master Rimo?"

"I-I-I tried. I-I-I tried to be excused from this mission, but she asked me why and I could not tell her." Felci's tone rose to an unnatural, panicky pitch. "I could not speak. I-I opened my mouth and the words would not come out."

"Should she not have excused you from this mission then?" There were now seven other people waiting to be let in. Their Masters were already inside with the other special guests of the Pundit Savant.

"She asked if I was ill or otherwise incapable of performing my duties. I am not, but . . . I-I-I could not tell her why I needed to be excused from this mission. That has never happened to me. Never. I begged her to go without me. I promised I would find a way to tell her later."

"Perhaps you should write it down?"

Felci faced him, slitted eyes blinking wide. "I did not think of that. I-I . . . this could have been much simpler if I had."

"Why did your Master make you come?" The whispered words were out of Obi-Wan's mouth before he realized the unfortunate double meaning, but Felci did not seem to notice.

"She said this mission would be a trial that I should overcome. But it does not feel like a trial. It just feels . . . . wrong. I-I-I do not know what will happen, but I think it will be bad. Very bad."

"Can I help?" Obi-Wan had absolutely no idea what help he could offer, but his fellow Padawan was clearly in need of some support.

"Master Rimo told me that if I could not speak to her, that I should speak to someone else."

Another person joined them in the corridor, a tall Torgruta wearing nothing but strings of gold and silver coins on chains. He jingled with every movement. His slender body was orange with only a few sparse white markings, though his face was almost all white. His skin was smooth and youthful, but the length of his gray and white lekku hanging over his shoulders and the tail down his back showed that he was older.

Slave.

The sentry droids remained, but one of them emitted a rapid series of clicks and put a metal hand up to an 'ear' antenna as if listening to something.

"Perhaps . . . . it would have been better if you had spoken sooner?"

The veil nodded. "I-I know. I realize that now. I did not know the words, but then I thought that . . . . perhaps, I was not the only Padawan who had . . . this problem?"

"I do not have your problem . . . . that I have not spoken to my Master about . . . " he swallowed, " . . . possibly having an attraction for him."

Felci's eyes widened with surprise and a flicker of hope. "How? How could you speak of such a thing to Master Qui-Gon?"

"In training, when I was closer to your age, when we gather to speak of our bodies, when they change. When the body affects our thoughts the most. I am surprised that you did not do so then." Obi-Wan hoped that he did not sound critical, but back at the Jedi Temple would have been the natural place for Felci to speak to Master Rimo, instead of on a mission when they were waiting in line to enter an orgy.

"That was the first time I tried to speak of it. When I could not speak. The others waited, but all I could do was beg for more time. They could see I was afraid." His tone dipped to a whisper, admitting his shame. "And then . . . this mission came. . . "

Obi-Wan again winced again at the double meaning, but his fellow Jedi was clearly too distressed to notice. Obi-Wan could sympathize with the difficulty of admitting to others his failings and then piling on fear on top of that. He just wished that Felci could have found his courage to admit it sooner. Another person making muffled sucking sounds joined the two Trandoshans. Not a slave, but a friend of their master who had been given permission to 'use' the Trandoshans whenever she liked.

Felci guiltily looked down at his nearly naked body, his orange-brown skin oiled and scented by the ship's salon droids to enhance his beauty. Obi-Wan as well smelled of smoky wood. "I should let go of this, but . . . my feelings were so strong and . . . . wonderful." The last word turned throaty as he spoke it; a true admission of lust. "I could not believe that I could feel this - "

"Attend."

Both Obi-Wan and Felci jumped when one of the sentry droids spoke. The others in the corridor moved closer. The golden doors hissed open and the silvery droids stepped aside. Drawn by the gravity of their duty, the two Jedi apprentices moved forward with the others who simply anticipated a gathering of unrestrained, passionate hedonism, an orgy.

The room was lit by covered lights near the base of the walls and in the sunken area in the middle. And the spectacular galactic spiral in the wide view ports of the passenger cruiser's observation chamber, reserved by the Pundit Savant for her private party.

She stood in the sunken area in the room. Naked to her waist, her firm biceps were well oiled, her three pairs of ample breasts glittering blue and gold under a single overhead white light. Some tuneless throbbing music played softly.

"Welcome." She smiled with a feral gleam in her eye. "There are no rules, no words needed here. Except that you are only allowed to give each other pleasure. Pure, selfless pleasure."

She held a long, silvery feather and she slowly ran it up the body of the young man laid out on a velvet draped table before her. He quivered. Two dome shaped protuberances lifted up from his pale blue groin. He was a young Saradas with long, many-jointed fingers and toes that curled tightly as he arched his back.

He was also a slave.

Behind the Pundit Savant was a line of her special guests for the party, people who had expressed a 'lust for living' to her during the more tame gatherings on this pleasure voyage. They were all naked to the waist (a couple were completely naked) and over half were wealthy slave-owners from the Outer Rim, outside of the reach of the Republic's anti-slavery laws.

Also, among them were two Jedi Masters.

Qui-Gon stood taller than all the others, long brown hair tied back, beard trimmed with sharp angular lines, arms folded over his chest, his member visibly erect under the silvery loin cloth tied around his waist.

Glancing away from the sight, Obi-Wan glimpsed Felci's desperate, fixed stare, as if he was simultaneously seeing both his own salvation and doom at the same time. Next to Qui-Gon, Master Rimo wore a long golden cloth hanging from a chain around her hips and going under the round bulges of the pink flesh at her waist and stomach. One hand idly fondled one of the nipples of her breasts. She was shorter than her fellow Jedi Master, but just as broad. Her graying hair was cut short to her scalp and sprinkled with gold flecks. Dark, painted lines emphasized the eyes and lips of Both Qui-Gon and Rimo.

Obi-Wan seized Felci's shoulder and pushed him aside and into one of the many alcoves along the wall. They both bumped into shelves, dislodging a few of the pleasure enhancement devices on them. The others from the corridor spread out into the room. A line formed at the Pundit Savant's table while others formed groupings of twos and threes. The two Trandoshans landed on a padded platform in another alcove with their master's friend in the middle. The music swelled with the rise of moaning, squealing and heavy breathing in the room.

Their Masters paired off with Rimo bent over a padded railing and Qui-Gon pumping into her from behind, and both of them keeping their eyes on the Pundit Savant who quickly brought the Saradas near to climax. She had added to her feather a flickering wand device that she ran over all parts of his body. The lights on her want solidified to bright yellow-white when he came and she caught the ejaculate in a colored cloth that was quickly passed off to a servitor droid. A slender female took the male's place and the Pundit Savant gently pushed her down with the wand before passing it over her wriggling body.

Another slave.

Obi-Wan threw his arms around Felci's shoulders, forcing him to look away from what their Master's were doing.

"I - I am not attracted to males, like you," Felci apologized in his ear.

"That will be good for you then."

"Oh." Felci belatedly realized the truth of that.

"Our mission is to observe and witness. Real participation is optional for us."

"Yes."

Felci's veil and short hair were pressed to the side of his face as he turned to look and Obi-Wan hoped that he was just looking at the table and not the activity around it. He turned to look as well. The Pundit Savant was on her fourth partner who writhed and moaned with pleasure on the table, the flashing want rolling over round curves, firm muscles and horns. The two Trandoshans had joined the line, without their master's friend who appeared to be spent, naked and spread out on the padded platform.

Felci looked away, pressed his head to Obi-Wan's collar bone. His veil tented around his head, holding in the hot breaths on Obi-Wan's bare chest. The ship's salon droids had shaved their bodies before massaging and applying oil to them.

"We have now observed and witnessed the Pundit Savant engaging in sexual acts with persons unlawfully held in bondage. Aren't we done?" His muffled words pleaded.

"Not until our Masters say so." Obi-Wan felt Felci's body tremble under his embrace. He heard something very much like a sob from the younger Padawan. He slowly and carefully folded his arms more tightly around Felci's broad shoulders, a firm and steady embrace, comradely shelter from the raging orgy around them. New groups of people had arrived and dove in with gusto. Couples, triples and one group of writhing arms and appendages of indeterminate number. The single participants pleasured themselves with the droids or other devices. Erogenous zones of several species were being stimulated with all manner of probes and orifices, both biologic and technologic. The Pundit Savant's wand slowly passed down the squirming chest, stomach, pelvis of the seventh or eighth person on her velvet table. Slave. They were all slaves.

"Breathe." Obi-Wan whispered into Felci's ear flap. They breathed together. Felci's arms wrapped around Obi-Wan's waist, attaching to his anchor. His body temperature was warmer than Human normal with salty, bitter sweat mixed with the scented oil, but there was nothing enticing about the desperation under it.

A grinning, four-armed partier stumbled at them with lecherous intent. Obi-Wan raised a hand, palm outward.

"We're not very interesting. There is much more pleasure over there."

Obi-Wan pointed in a random direction and the four arms waved back as if the body connected to them bounced off a force field before swiveling away, leaving behind an over-sweet floral breeze. Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan felt the Force in his body like a cool, calming breeze that washed down through both of them. The beings in the room were bright, fiery lights, full of life and living, but they receded to tiny specks compared to the grandeur beyond.

The galactic spiral above the ship, the starry arms with their thousands and thousands of worlds swirling in toward the bright center, glowed brighter. The aura of the Force touched everything, everywhere, all life, all things. Every cell of their bodies joined, connected and powered by uncountable stars and planets, impossibly far away but still within their reach. Suspended together, all the life in the universe surrounded them, flowed through them, penetrated them more deeply and completely than any physical touch ever could. Their oneness with the universe peeked . . .

. . . The stars receded. The flow of the Force calmed and their perception withdrew and returned to the void through which a large pleasure cruiser traveled and one large room on an upper deck and the dozens of brightly living beings, enveloped in, penetrated by each one's sensual, erotic moment. Except for . . .

"Something's happening."

The whispered words from Obi-Wan's lips on Felci's hot skin sharpened their focus back to the ship, the observation port, the party, the noise, thrumming and pounding, the many bodies desperately pressing together. Both Padawans, still in a tight embrace, looked toward the central table.

The Pundit Savant now lay stretched out and all the others from her line surrounded her in a huddle, heads down as if in a group kiss. Then two of them broke away. They approached Qui-Gon and Rimo, who were still in the same position at the railing. Rimo's back arched in pleasure . . . . a faked orgasm. She looked convincingly blissful, but the lack of real climax was a discordant note in the Force. The two Jedi parted. The male, with a very dark blue, muscular body and curled horns under his pointed ears, wrapped an arm around Qui-Gon's waist. Qui-Gon, his penis still erect under his loin cloth, lowered his head and they kissed. Rimo caressed a slender female Twi'lek, her pale purple skin completely naked next to the Jedi's broader body. They kissed deeply and squeezed each other's breasts.

The two led the Jedi to the table where the Pundit Savant sat up, her glittering triple pairs of breasts sagging down toward her lap, her legs dangling over the edge. Her circle of admirers continued caressing her, wherever their hands could reach. When Qui-Gon and Rimo were close enough, the Pundit Savant's hands suddenly shot out, grabbing their crotches through the long cloths hanging from the bands around their waists. She pulled them closer, as if to encourage both to kiss her at once.

"Huh!"

Both Padawans gasped.

The Pundit Savant's hands suddenly dived lower. . . .

. . . . to where both Jedi Masters carried their lightsabers, strapped to their inside thighs.

They were very close now and the crowd closed in around them, bodies swaying, hands and appendages grasping, stroking, entwining. Visible through the swaying bodies, both of them lowered their heads toward hers, within kissing distance. Her lips moved, close enough to touch cheeks and chins, first Qui-Gon . . . then Rimo . . . Qui-Gon . . . Rimo. The Pundit Savant's lips were full and soft and painted blue-black. Rimo turned her round face and intense dark brown eyes directly toward the Jedi apprentices.

Get ready.

* * *

 ***** End Part 1**


	2. Chapter 2

**DO YOU LOVE YOUR MASTER?**

by ardavenport

 ***** Part 2**

* * *

Obi-Wan and Felci broke apart.

The circle of bodies around the Pundit Savant tightened. Then burst apart.

Ffff-zzz-zzz-zzz-zzz-ttt-ttt-ttt!

Obi-Wan and Felcis' lightsabers whipped out from their concealment and ignited on the instant following their Masters. They rushed forward.

Two fiery green cuts from Qui-Gon's lightsaber dispatched two servitor droids. Rimo leapt up from the sunken area and dispatched more machines. Felci beheaded a droid on the left, leaving untouched an astonished four-armed male clutching a suddenly limp and heavy torso.

Rimo jumped high, flipping over startled partiers who dove for the floor. Her green saber cut through observation camera lenses at the high point of her arc before she bounced off the floor and her blade sliced through another row of cameras by the ceiling, white-hot sparks flying. Felci followed her Master's lead and they quickly attacked the remaining machines in the room, people diving to the deck or rolling away ahead of them.

Qui-Gon whirled to Obi-Wan, his loincloth flying outward, revealing what he was not wearing under it.

"Lead them to the Pundit Savant's ship. We'll be behind you."

Nodding, Obi-Wan leapt up the steps, ripping off the annoying veil; with the lightsaber out, the disguise was irrelevant. Felci had already torn off his. He paused at the door for a quick glance at who he was actually leading. All of the Pundit Savant's partners at the table had formed a line.

All of them slaves.

Going out in to the fresh air of the brightly lit corridor, he went to the right. Screams, shouts and screeching for help came from the open door behind him. The party was over.

The pleasure cruiser's hangar was fourteen levels down. Passengers as rich and well-connected as the Pundit-Savant arrived on their own ships.

There was a lift around the curve of the corridor, but there were too many to fit, so he turned to the left and left again.

"Halt!"

Fzz-zzz-ttt-ttt!

His blue lightsaber dove down and up, neatly deflecting the blaster bolt back to the sentry droid that fired. Sparks and smoke burst out of the machine's head and it fell. It had been a full-power blast, not a stun. Not something that would be expected from civilian passenger ship security. But it fit with the kind of security that slavers traveled with, even ones on a vacation cruise. Waving his hand, the Force flowed to a marked exit door; it slid aside revealing a spiral stairway.

Lightsabers held high, Rimo and Felci bounded down the line to him and back-to-back they covered the corridor as Obi-Wan led the line of slaves down. Round and round and round. Three levels above the docking bay, Obi-Wan heard more blaster shots and the squeals of lightsabers cutting through metal and plastoid. A severed droid limb clattered down past them on the stairs.

There were gasps of fear from the people behind him, but he did not stop. At the base of the stairway, he waited for the others to join him, making sure that he was between them and the door into the hangar. Rimo and Felci arrived among the slaves and shushed them back, then Qui-Gon came, leaping down the stairs three at a time, lightsabers ready. The Pundit Savant spoke into a small com unit.

Striding forward, Qui-Gon waved the wide docking bay doors open.

The light on the sensor stalk of a flat binary lifter blinked curiously at them as the boxy machine hummed its way across the open deck of the docking bay. There was no one else there. The Pundit Savant's ship, a sleek, blue-hulled craft, was the second one in the row closest to the shielded hangar entry.

A line of bare feet slapped on the deckplates as they ran to the open ramp; the ship's engines were already up, the thrum of them filling the air. A small Humanoid quickly shuffled on stumpy legs and met them at the ramp. It was one of the Pundit Savant's assistants.

"Beswah, you better have cleared that docking shield!" the Pundit Savant panted as she ran to the ramp, her six pendulous breasts bouncing with every step.

"The droid's here are stupid as grass! We'll get through!" she shouted back, waving her short arms. "And watch where you're waving that thing!"

Standing at the ready by the ramp as the others ran past, Obi-Wan's lightsaber was nowhere near Beswah, whose head only came up to his waist.

"Out of my way," the diminutive assistant elbowed her way past the Togruta's long legs. He had lost his coin-and-chain adornment and was now completely naked as were many of the others along with the Pundit Savant.

Rimo, Felci ran together with Qui-Gon bringing up the rear, lightsaber blades glowing brightly. Obi-Wan counted eleven slaves, plus them and the Pundit Savant.

Qui-Gon's hand slashed downward. "Go!" Obi-Wan preceded the others up the ramp which was already starting to close and they all extinguished their sabers as they ran up it.

"Go!" Qui-Gon shouted to the forward pilot section as soon as it was sealed, but the ship had already lifted off and was angling toward the exit to space. A few of the escapees collapsed where they were but most of them followed the Pundit Savant and the Jedi forward. Her two assistants were there, in pilot and copilot seats too small for anyone else to sit in comfortably.

The wide, glowing rectangle of the hangar bay entrance grew large until it passed beyond the forward ports. Nothing but stars ahead. The ship slid neatly out of the docking bay without even a bump. The shields were on minimum, just keeping the atmosphere in. Obi-Wan turned around, looking for scanners. An orange and yellow astromech beeped a complaint when he reached for a control under a likely screen.

"Don't touch anything," the pilot said with a glance back his way. "What are you looking for anyway?"

"I thought I'd check the scanners for any pursuit."

"Pursuit?" Beswah's tone rose to a high, incredulous pitch. "With what? That's a passenger ship; a pleasure craft. They don't have fighters to pursue with. And we don't have any weapons on this boat anyway. Go sit down, we're going to hyperspace."

There were two seats behind the pilot and copilot and sixteen people. The Pundit Savant took one, Rimo took the other and everyone else sat on the deck with their backs braced against the bulkheads. There was a respectable jolt as the ship slipped out of real space and no one got up again until the abstract hazy shapes of hyperspace settled into a steady stream flowing past the ship.

They were met by a protocol droid fashioned after the Pundit Savant's species. Obi-Wan had never seen a pair of breasts on a protocol droid before, let alone three pairs. He supposed that the metalloid domes could be used for extra storage. Memory? Tools? Utensils?

"We're safe. My pilot, Marotah, has set a course for my world and I promise you that the Republic's laws against slavery will protect you," she gave the two Jedi Masters an intense look as she continued her announcement to the now-former slaves gathered in the main compartment behind the cockpit, "and I will personally make sure that you will receive new lives. It won't be anything fancy, but you will be free to make of them what you wish."

"Aaaaaah!" Hustling forward, Beswah waved her hand; it only reached as high as Qui-Gon's stomach. "We will have to accommodate you for a few standard days first." She gave the Pundit Savant a sour look and enunciated her next sentence carefully. "We did not have as much time as we planned to prepare for you. But you will be safe as long as you are our guests. Now, if you wish to wash or eat, there are accommodations in the cabins in back." She pointed. "And Aye-Four-Four," she waved upward at the six-breasted droid, "and Bee-Zee-Two and Bee-Zee-Three can assist you with anything you need."

Two golden protocol droids the same height and width as Beswah that Obi-Wan had not noticed before snapped to attention.

"Do you have any clothes?" The naked Togruta male half-raised a hand. A few others, sitting on the deck, backs to the bulkheads and their various sexual orifices and penetrating members completely exposed, looked up expectantly.

"Uuuuuh," Beswah grimaced, "we were not expecting to need to provide you clothes, so unfortunately -"

"The only things to wear on this ship are fitted for me," the Pundit Savant patted her multi-breasted chest, "and my assistants." Somebody in the crowd guffawed.

"We will have some things brought to the ship as soon as we arrive," Beswah assured them, "we just weren't expecting the need to improvise." Again, she glared at her superior.

The Pundit Savant remained unfazed. "But you improvise so well, Beswah. And we did not have much choice with Jedi sent to spy on me. Tell me Masters Jedi, who called you to bear witness that the highest advisor to the Mekrad Assembly's Elders was cavorting with slavers? Councilor Flormiz? He's a vengeful old miser whose dick probably petrified as soon as he got out of puberty. Or Vreddis, she loves to roll around in the dirt and can't resist dragging anyone within reach in with her. Were you called because the Elders would only believe the witness of the Jedi to confirm the accusation?"

Qui-Gon made a motion that he might have done to tuck his hands into the sleeves of his robe, a typical gesture for Jedi to express supreme calm and aloofness. But being nearly naked, he did not have that option, so he settled for folding his arms across his bare chest.

"I am not at liberty to say."

Head high, her six breast nipples firm, the Pundit Savant put her hands on her hips. "So, what will you all bear witness to then?" She glanced toward Obi-Wan and Felci, a first acknowledgement of them along with their Masters.

"We witnessed," Rimo stated, her own shoulders back, her breasts high as if in challenge to the Pundit Savant's triple salvo, "your Excellency enabling the escape of nearly a dozen slaves while acting as the hostess to an orgy, possibly to maximize the distraction of their owners to catch them more off guard. And in spite of your erotic pretense, I noticed that you never actually touched a single one of them back there." Rimo reached a hand out and curled a finger under the tip of the silvery feather held in place between the top pair of the Pundit Savant's breasts. Obi-Wan had no idea how she had managed not to lose it when they were running.

"And your wand," Qui-Gon continued, "I suspect it had nothing to do with erotic stimulation. A scanner for bondage devices?"

The Pundit Savant grinned. "It disables them, too." She held up her empty hands. "It's a pity I lost it on the way out. I think it ended up in the ass of your former master." She nodded down to the two Trandoshans, huddled together by the bulkhead. She sighed with feigned regret. "What a waste. It was useful."

She looked about. "Speaking of useful. Where is Zee-Bee-Ot?"

"Oh, Captain Marotah had to shut that thing down." Aye-Four-Four answered dismissively. "No programmed for manners at all. It seemed to think that we were working for it."

"Bitchy droids," she muttered. "And where is it?"

Aye-Four-Four waved a shiny appendage toward the back of the ship. "Captain Marotah put it in the last cabin with its equipment."

"Well, go turn it on again." She turned in a circle addressing the former slaves around them. "We did bring a medical droid with us and it is fully programmed for removing any bondage or tracking devices that your former masters might have implanted in your bodies. Go with Aye-Four-Four." Half of the people immediately got up and formed a rough line behind the droid as it headed aft.

The Pundit Savant's lip curled. "I despise slavery in all its forms. Do you know why otherwise sane people have slaves? Because they enjoy dominating other sentients. They love it. They suck the life out of others to feed their own sorry egos and worse than that, they pretend that their victims enjoy their bondage and should be grateful for it. Nothing other than sadistic greed for confirmation that they are better than others drives it. In a galaxy where we have droids to do any physical task we could ask for. There is no excuse for it. So, when I got a plea from a very determined ex-slave who had freed himself, I took the risk to my public reputation to do some good."

It was an inspiring speech even though none of the remaining former slaves appeared to be stirred by it. They mostly looked tired. And fearful, as if they would be somehow snatched back across hyperspace to be the sexual toys of their former masters.

Rimo put her hands on her hips. "Well, that is what the Jedi have witnessed. You were freeing slaves. As long as the Mekrad Assembly's public does not care that you were freeing slaves under the guise of using them as sex objects, your public reputation is undamaged."

The Pundit Savant's brows lowered as she sorted out which parts of Rimo's statements were laudatory and which criticism, but Master Rimo interrupted that though process with her own question.

"How did you know we were Jedi?"

The Pundit Savant opened her mouth in undisguised surprise. Or perhaps it was contempt.

"How did I know? How did I . . . ? If you weren't Jedi and incapable to joking I would think that's just what that question was?" Her voice rose until she was shouting at the two Jedi Masters. "Do you have any idea how incredibly BAD you people are at disguising yourselves? You stride in like you own the law, you wave your hands to trick people into thinking you belong where you don't and - - -" she dove forward and yanked aside Master Rimo's loin cloth, " - - - you walk funny when you've got lightsabers up your crotches!"

Rimo yanked her loincloth back and tried to fold her arms in a dignified Jedi fashion the way Qui-Gon had tried and was similarly thwarted by being nearly naked. She put her hands on her hips again, breasts thrust forward, but she was still out-gunned by the Pundit Savant.

"And," the Pundit Savant went on, "you two," she jabbed a finger at them, "were grinding away in the same position, in the same time it took me to fake a climax on nearly everyone else on this ship! That is just a little suspicious." She looked down at Rimo's crotch and then at Qui-Gon's. "I am wondering how you kept that up all this time. And you weren't faking, either; I can tell. Is that some Jedi trick that you people don't normally advertise?"

Qui-Gon's brows lifted as if her question was a matter of small concern. His loin cloth slowly rose upward until it was at full attention, supported by a large and very substantial erection. His lightsaber was visible, strapped to his inside thigh.

Then it slowly descended as if taking its bow.

"Have you had this training with Master Qui-Gon?" Felci whispered to Obi-Wan's ear.

"I'm not as well practiced in this training as my Master," Obi-Wan whispered back, not wanting to go into detail about the drills in the Jedi Temple med-center with the two medical droids and the three other Jedi Masters and their apprentices. Clearly, Felci had not reached that level in his training with Master Rimo. Felci did not reply, but he looked worried.

"Hmmmm," the Pundit Savant nodded appraisingly and fingered one of her top nipples. "For a Humanoid, that is impressive. I might want to take that one out for a spin myself. People think you Jedi are eunuchs, but I know better. Jedi aren't supposed to have attachments to other people. Casual sex is fine as long as there aren't any emotional entanglements to it." She rubbed the underside of her lowest pair of breasts. "That suits me fine and my reputation for my sexual appetite is not, I assure you, overrated." She smiled up at him, but still kept a respectful distance. Two more of the former slaves went to the back of the ship.

Qui-Gon turned his head aside, as if avoiding a bad odor. They were all sweaty and oil-scented. "Generous as your offer is, your Excellency, no, I do not wish to have sex with you. Today's activities were more than enough for me."

The Pundit Savant's gaze turned to Rimo in a wordless inquiry.

Rimo rolled her eyes. "Your appetite does indeed live up to your reputation, your Excellency, if you're sniffing for more after all that. But they would be wasted on me as well, I am done." She spoke as someone who had eaten the same meal for the past six days and thoroughly did not want another bite.

The Pundit Savant sighed. Then she turned to the young Padawans. "How about either of you? Care to show me what your Masters might have taught you?"

Felci gasped. Obi-Wan bowed, hands clasped before his naked stomach. "I am honored by your generous offer - - - "

She cut him off, correctly assessing his answer. "But you've had enough, too. You?"

Felci stood speechless, gawking at the three pairs of breasts, generous hips and muscular legs.

"You should take it," Rimo called out, breaking Felci's stare. "You're not ever going to be with me."

"Uh-uh-uuuh, y-y-yes, Master."

"Oh, please, Padawan. Get that look of terror off your face. You're embarrassing me."

Slitted eyes wide, Felci looked around as if the certain death in an escape pod in hyperspace was a viable alternative to facing his Master.

"M-M-Master, perhaps we can speak together later, alone - - -"

"No, Padawan, we can't. That discussion is never done 'alone' or 'in private' or anywhere else where it cannot be dissected and dismembered and disarmed until you have no more attachment to it. After that we meditate on it. A lot."

Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon, tall and muscular with a slender, straight waist. During their training, their discussions had been in the med-center with medical droids and other Jedi. At one point, they all stripped and stood naked and exposed to each other. In that respect, this confrontation was not that different, but no more welcome.

Felci nodded weakly though his expression remained fearful and defeated. The edge in his Master's voice softened.

"Do you really think that I did not know the first day after you masturbated to fantasies of penetrating me? Even without sensing it in the Force, I could have guessed from the change in your attitude. The fear you were hiding."

The remaining ex-slaves went to the back of the ship. Looking bored and uappreciated, Beswah went to the cockpit. The Pundit Savant's eyes brightened as she looked from Felci to Rimo as if she was watching a sporting match.

"Did you have a plan beyond our coupling, Felci?"

"N-n-no, Master. I-I-I thought that afterwards our path would become clear. I could not see past it. And I-I-I found that I could not . . . gain satisfaction without the . . . fantasy. No matter how much I tried to fight it. It always returned, no matter how hard I tried to banish it."

"There is no 'our' path, Padawan. There is only the Jedi way for us. And there is no fighting the irrational. It is what it is. You can only let it go. That is the only way to control it. And what does that way say about desire and carnal impulses? Especially about suppressing or banished them as you tried to do?"

Felci hung his head, but realized is mistake and resumed steady eye contact with Rimo. "Suppression is not control. And a Jedi always seeks control."

Rimo nodded. "You honor me with at least remembering the words, my Padawan. But you have been suppressing this desire and fear of it for far too long. Now that it is revealed, the suppression can end. And it is time for you to let it go. If you find you cannot, then I must request that the Jedi Council assign you a new Master to complete your training."

Felci opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. He closed his purple eyes and inhaled several deep breaths.

The Pundit Savant looked bored but she did not speak as the silence mounted. A cool sensation, like a breeze from the galactic spiral viewed through the Force, passed through Obi-Wan from the younger Padawan next to him.

Opening his eyes, Felci spoke steadily. "No, I will not need a new Master. Master." Then he turned his head toward the Pundit Savant. "And, yes, your Excellency. I would be honored to have sex with you, though I would prefer that in private, if any of your cabins are available. I think that everyone here no longer has any appetite for public gratification."

She nodded. "That's understandable. As soon as the medical droid has cleared everyone, I'm sure we can have a cabin to ourselves." Reaching out to him, she ran a finger down the center of his body, down over his loin cloth. She tilted her head expectantly.

"But I must confess to you, your Excellency, that I do not have Master Qui-Gon's . . . skill."

She withdrew her hand and pursed her lips at his lower body in obvious disappointment. Obi-Wan moved away from them, going to stand by Qui-Gon who gave him a little smile. For a moment he thought he saw a glint of a galactic spiral in his Master's very blue eyes. The arm the older man put around his shoulder seemed to wash away the old sweat and stale oils in a refreshing coolness flowing down over his body.

The Pundit Savant gave Rimo a critical look for her apprentice's lack of training. But then she shrugged and thoughtfully rubbed her hip as she appraised Felci's slender, youthful physique.

"Well, that is disappointing. But you are young; I suppose you can make up for it with enthusiasm. But are you really willing?" She put a finger on his chest. "I'm not in the mood for revenge sex because your Master rejected you."

Felci reached out and cupped the Pundit Savants middle pair of breasts, caressing and squeezing them gently. His Master's eyes glowed with approval. Felci shook his head and his voice was steady.

"No, your Excellency. Jedi do not seek revenge." He smiled and there was a hint of a bulge under his loin cloth. "We love our Masters. But we also let them go."

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 **%%% END %%%**

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 **Disclaimer:** All characters and the Star Wars universe belong to Disney and Lucasfilm; I am just playing in their sandbox.


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